


Strut

by BeccaBear93



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:59:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8593567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaBear93/pseuds/BeccaBear93
Summary: Jack likes to wear skirts sometimes, and that's okay. It's really not a big deal or something that he worries about... until he starts thinking about other people seeing it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quintessentia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintessentia/gifts).



> (Title stolen from the Adam Lambert song, because I didn't have a title and it popped up when I opened iTunes and seemed semi-fitting.)
> 
> ...Wow. Okay, so, ages and ages ago, Quin put out a request on tumblr for somebody to draw or write about Jack wearing skirts, and I promised to take up the gauntlet. Unfortunately, I've been working on approximately a bajillion other things and only recently got around to actually writing it. Also, this would have been posted over a week ago, but my laptop (the only place where the first few chapters were saved) was at the computer clinic for repairs.
> 
> This thing fought me every step of the way. I thought it would be a fluffy little 1-2k fic about Jack liking skirts and Mark being a good (if slightly clueless) boyfriend; it turned into this 12k monstrosity about Jack being insecure and scared and working past it with Mark's support. I planned for it to be intentionally completely unsexualized, because crossdressing is too often written as a kink; although there isn't really any smut, there definitely ended up being some sexual parts. There's a huge scene in chapter 4 that was completely unplanned and actually got in the way of some scenes that I wanted to write. At this point, I honestly don't know if I like this fic anymore or not, but I really hope you guys do--especially you, Quin!
> 
> ETA: I forgot to mention, this is an AU where everyone are still YouTubers, but they all magically live in the same area. Get it? Got it? Good.

Even though he’s the only one around, Jack feels the need to sneak as he enters the bedroom. He carefully closes the door behind him and moves to the dresser, opening the third drawer. Digging through his jeans, he eyes the items hiding under them. Just to be safe, he pulls out his phone and calls the first number in his favorites list.

Mark answers on the second ring. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi, Mark.”

“What’s up?”

“Uh…” Jack gnaws on his lip nervously. “I was just wondering what time you’ll be home tonight.”

“Probably not until about nine,” his boyfriend sighs. “I’m really sorry, Jack. I just don’t think I can get away early tonight. This shoot is really important, and—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Jack cuts Mark off, hastening to reassure him. “I totally understand. I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’m still sorry, though.” There’s a brief silence, and then he hears Mark’s muffled voice speaking to someone else. When he comes back on the line, he sighs again. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ve gotta go. See you when I get home?”

“Of course. Have fun!”

“I’ll try. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Jack answers, smiling at nothing.

“Bye!” Mark says, and then there’s a click as the call ends.

Jack takes a deep breath, nodding to himself and turning his attention back to the drawer. He glances up one more time to make sure the door and the curtains are closed, and then he pulls out the item he spent too much time just staring at. He changes as quickly as possible, then moves to the mirror, smiling at the image of himself in the blue, knee-length skirt.

“This one was a good choice,” he says to himself. It makes him feel confident enough to go digging through the drawer again, pulling out the few other skirts he owns. He lays them out on the bed, eying each one and getting ready to try them all on.

\-----

“Honey, I’m home!” Mark calls out jokingly as he enters the house. “Surprise!”

Jack freezes like a deer caught in the headlights, panicking as he hears his boyfriend’s steps coming down the hall. His eyes dart to the door, and he curses himself as he realizes he never locked it. Before he can move, though, the doorknob turns and Mark appears.

He halts in the doorway. “Ah… Hi Jack.”

 “Hi.”

“Um… Is there… Is there something you want to tell me? I-I promise I won’t judge.”

Jack feels like he should probably feel embarrassed, or awkward, or _something_. Instead, it all falls away and turns into amusement because of the look on Mark’s face and his uncomfortable attempts at being respectful while talking around the subject. “Mark, are you asking if I’m trans?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Nope.”

“Er… Genderfluid, then? I’ve heard about that, too.”

“Nope.”

“Then…”

After a few seconds of silence, Jack finally takes pity on him. He shrugs. “I’m a man. I just happen to be a man who doesn’t care too much about what each gender is ‘supposed to’ wear,” he says, adding air quotes.

“Oh. Okay.”

“‘Okay?’” Jack repeats, a bit surprised. “That’s it? No questions or… I don’t know, opinions?”

“Opinions?” Mark asks, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “I mean, it’s cute, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

The other man laughs. “Well, I wasn’t trying to fish for compliments, but thanks.”

“So, you make it sound like you wear skirts on a regular basis… Why haven’t I ever seen you in one?”

Jack shrugs. “I don’t do it _that_ often, just every once in a while. And never in public. I’ve never been willing to face that kind of scrutiny, but I’ve been considering it lately.” He does a little twirl, watching the way the skirt puffs up in the mirror, and laughs. “I’d have to shave my legs though. They look hideous.”

That startles a chuckle out of Mark, who finally steps into the room. He wraps an arm around Jack’s waist and leans their heads together, looking the other man up and down in the mirror. “Well, I think you look gorgeous.”

Jack blushes and looks down, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. “I… It really doesn’t bother you?”

Mark shrugs. “Why should it? I won’t lie; I certainly didn’t expect it. But you like what you like. Even if it _did_ bother me—which it _doesn’t_ —it wouldn’t be my place to tell you what to wear.”

“I… Thanks, Mark,” he says, grinning at the redhead’s reflection. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, and he turns to kiss his boyfriend. “I can’t believe you’re taking this so calmly. Honestly, I half-expected that you would dump me if you ever found out.”

“Well, I have a super-hot boyfriend. Why would I dump him just for showing off a bit more leg?” he jokes, making Jack laugh.

“Oh shut up, ya big perv.”

“Guilty as charged.”


	2. Chapter 2

One day, Jack decides to wear another one of his skirts, despite the fact that he knows Mark is home. Mostly, he just feels like wearing it because it’s cute—this one is a bit shorter, black with roses and a few frills between the layers—and because it fits with his happy mood and the sunny day. But there’s also a part of him that he doesn’t want to admit to, a part that is insecure and just wants to test Mark’s reaction again, because there’s no possible way that fate is really letting him keep his boyfriend _and_ dress however he wants at the same time.

When he peeks around the corner into the living room, Mark is just sitting on the couch watching TV, not suspecting a thing. Jack joins him, bouncing onto the couch. He lays down with his feet in Mark’s lap and watches him carefully.

Mark absently moves his hand to rest on Jack’s leg, blinking in surprise when he makes contact with bare skin. He glances down and chuckles. “You actually shaved your legs.”

Jack tries to shrug nonchalantly, but he’s already tensing, ready to defend himself if this turns into a fight. “Yeah…? I said I was going to.”

“I know. I guess I just didn’t expect you to actually go through with it so soon. Does that mean you’ve got plans to go out like this?”

“No… I just thought it would look nice,” he answers tiredly. He hates having to stay on his guard so much; it’s fucking exhausting, even after less than a minute. He can’t imagine having to do it for any extended period of time, especially around more people than just his boyfriend.

Mark shrugs, turning his attention back to his show. “Alright.”

Jack watches him for a few more seconds, waiting for something more, for a barbed comment or rejection or even just an ignorant, unintended insult. It doesn’t come. He blinks, slowly allowing himself to relax, and then sits up to cuddle up to Mark.

Mark just wraps an arm around his shoulders, squeezing tightly for a moment and kissing the top of his head. They watch the TV together, silently, until the commercials start. Then Mark glances down at Jack and suddenly suggests, “We should go shopping tomorrow.”

“Huh? Do we need groceries?” Jack asks, glancing toward the kitchen as if he could see through all the cupboards and the fridge to find out.

“No, I meant clothes shopping,” he says. One hand falls to Jack’s lap and he tugs lightly on the hem of his skirt to clarify.

Jack blushes. “Really…?”

“Yeah. Why not?” Mark responds with a shrug. “You don’t have very many, right?”

“Why are you being like this…?” Jack questions. It’s nearly impossible to wrap his head around how easily the whole thing has been accepted. He’d had countless conversations in his head, hundreds of excuses and explanations. He’d braced himself for a break-up and planned witty one-liners to make Mark regret it. And in the end, he hadn’t needed any of it. It would almost be easier to accept it if everything _had_ gone wrong; the way things are now, it feels a bit like the world’s been flipped upside-down.

Mark sighs, turning to face him. He takes Jack’s hands in his own and makes a point of meeting his eyes. “Look, Jack. I just want you to be comfortable with me, okay? Whatever’s on your mind, I want you to feel like you can come to me with it. There’s _nothing_ wrong with you liking skirts, okay? And if something ever _is_ wrong, I still want you to be able to talk to me about so we can work it out _together_. We’ve been together for a pretty long time, and honestly, I never thought anything could make you doubt me this much.”

Jack bites his lip and gives him a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to… doubt you.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t,” he replies, giving Jack a quick kiss.

“It’s just scary, you know?” He doesn’t have words for all the thoughts and feelings that have been constantly rushing through his head since that first day that Mark caught him trying on skirts in front of their bedroom mirror; ‘scary’ is the best description he can give for it all.

“I know,” Mark says gently. Of course he doesn’t, not really… But he has to have _some_ idea, and he’s _trying_ , and that’s all that really matters.

“So… Do you really wanna go shopping with me?” Jack asks, peering up at him through his lashes.

Mark laughs. “If you want to, then yeah, of course.”

“Thank you,” Jack says, leaning forward to hug him. It’s uncomfortable with the way they’re sitting, but they stay like that for a long time. Jack closes his eyes with a smile, just soaking in the warmth and the physical comfort as Mark slowly rubs his back.

\-----

The next day, Mark takes him to a store he’s never been to before. As they walk through the front doors, Jack gazes around in awe. “Holy shit, this place is _huge_!” he says, tilting his head back to see the ridiculously high ceiling. “What is this, a fuckin’ warehouse?”

Mark purses his lips thoughtfully. “You know, I think it actually _was_ a warehouse, and they just converted it.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t look like one.”

“Yeah, they did a pretty good job with redecorating, huh?”

Mark leads him through the store until they reach the women’s section, and then they start hunting for the skirts. When they find some, Mark starts down the aisle, but Jack pauses. “Um… Mark…”

He turns and backtracks, taking Jack’s hands. “Nervous?” he asks quietly, rubbing his thumbs over the back of them.

Jack glances around, paranoid that somebody might be watching him. There’s nobody around, and he looks back to Mark with wide, pleading eyes. “Yeah,” he says, nodding.

“It’s okay. You’ll be fine. Even if somebody sees, they won’t think you’re here for yourself,” Mark reassures him.

“Right. I know you’re right, but…” Jack trails off, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Just out of curiosity, how did you get the ones you already have?”

Jack flushes. “Um… I might have stolen them from my sisters over the years?” he squeaks.

That startles a loud laugh out of Mark, and Jack glances around frantically again. “Alright, then… I really don’t think anyone will ask, but if they do, we can just say we’re looking for presents for your sister, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees with a nod. He takes a deep breath and drops one of Mark’s hands. Mark squeezes the other tighter and leads him down the aisle.

“So, what kind do you want?” he asks, gesturing to the shelves with a sweep of his arm.

“Um… I don’t know…” Jack mumbles, overwhelmed by all the options. “Something that’ll fit, obviously, so that’ll probably narrow it down quite a bit.”

“I don’t know if it will,” Mark teases.

Jack glances at him in the corner of his eye and shoots him a quick glare, but doesn’t respond to the jab otherwise. He turns his attention back to the shelves in front of them, his head on a swivel as he takes in the selection. “This one might look nice,” he says hesitantly, moving forward to grab a long white skirt. He holds it out to get a clearer look at it, then turns to Mark with a questioning expression.

Mark simultaneously nods and shrugs. “Whatever you want,” he insists.

Jack huffs in exasperation. “I could use a little help here.”

“Well, it really does come down to what you want,” Mark says, “but I can give some recommendations if you want.”

“ _Please_.”

“Alright. How about…” he pauses, scanning the shelves. His eyes stop on a plaid miniskirt and he holds it up with a mischievous smile. “This one?”

Jack eyes it suspiciously, but he eventually takes it and drapes it over his arm with the other one. “I’ll _try_ it,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Good enough for me,” Mark says, still grinning.

“What the…?” Jack mutters, his eyes bulging as he checks the price tag. He rummages around to check several others, then turns to his boyfriend with a shocked look. “Fuckin’ hell, Mark! These prices are _insane_!”

“Yeah, I guess this place _is_ pretty pricey,” Mark concedes, chuckling nervously. “Don’t worry about it, though; it’s all on me today.”

“Christ, what are you, my sugar daddy?”

“If that’s what you want, babyboy,” Mark says into his ear in a low, scratchy voice, struggling to contain his laughter.

Jack guffaws, rushing to cover his mouth as he nearly chokes on his own spit. “That was so creepy!”

Mark pulls back with a satisfied smile. “That’s what I was aiming for.”

“Well, you succeeded. Get away from me, you weirdo!” he jokes in a whiny voice, letting go of Mark’s hand and making shooing motions.

“Okay, okay,” Mark says, backing up a few feet, “Just make up your mind and pick some skirts!”

Jack turns to him with wide eyes, one finger to his lips. “Gee, why not say it a bit louder, so the whole store can hear?” he hisses.

“Sorry, babe,” he says, moving back and wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders. “I wasn’t trying to be an ass.”

“I know,” Jack replies. He glances around and, seeing that there’s still nobody nearby, says, “It’s okay. Let’s just hurry up.”

“Alright.”

They go through the section bit by bit, each occasionally adding another skirt to the growing pile on Jack’s arm. It’s only when they’ve finished that Jack realizes there’s another problem. “I… have to try these on,” he says slowly, staring over the shelves at the sign for the changing rooms.

“Oh shit, that’s right…” Mark hums thoughtfully, then gestures for Jack to hand him one of the skirts. He does, and Mark folds it up, carefully obscuring any hint of what it is. “What if we just do this with all of them? Or we can just buy them all, and if they don’t fit, then we can come back another time and get some more.”

“I’m _not_ letting you spend that much money on something if I’m not even sure I’ll wear it,” Jack says in a tone that brooks no argument. “We’ll just make do with the folding, it’s fine.”

"Okay," Mark says. He takes half the pile from Jack's hands, and they each start folding.

Once they finish, Jack takes them all back and they head for the changing rooms. The associate there looks to Jack with a bored expression, and his heart starts racing, sure that the boy somehow knows. Pushing his panic down, he checks the pile in his arms. "Um, six," he says, and the boy nods and hands him the little card. He walks inside and stands in front of a stall.

"Want me to go in with you?" Mark asks when he makes no move to open the door.

Jack gives a self-deprecating laugh. "I'm a wimp, not a child."

"You're not a wimp," Mark argues, and Jack just rolls his eyes. "Really, you're not. This takes a lot of bravery. I can't even imagine doing what you are right now."

Jack gives him a small smile. "Thanks, Mark. And... thanks for coming with me. I don't think I _could_ do this without the emotional support."

"It's no trouble," Mark insists. He gives him a quick peck on the cheek, then lightly swats his ass with a laugh. "Now get in there and try those on!"

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" he yelps. He opens the door, steps into the stall, and gives his boyfriend one last long, slightly terrified look before closing it. He wiggles out of his pants, tries on the first skirt, and examines himself in the mirror.

Mark paces outside for a minute, then calls, "Do you want me to look for some more while you try those on?"

"Why, are you bored?"

"Well, waiting in an empty changing room isn't exactly entertaining, but mostly, I just wanna be helpful."

Jack considers it for a minute, staring past himself in the mirror to the door. "Sure, if you want," he decides eventually.

"Cool. I'll be back in just a minute, 'kay?"

He hums a confirmation that he's heard as he changes into the next skirt. He's just pulled on the last one, the plaid skirt, when there's a quiet knock on the door. "It's me," Mark says.

Jack unlocks and opens the door, squishing himself against the wall so that anybody who might be standing outside won't see him. The other man closes the door behind him and turns Jack toward him. He looks him up and down, smiling, and Jack turns back to the mirror. "You look _amazing_."

His first instinct is to be modest and deny the compliment, but he knows how annoying it is to be the one giving a compliment that someone refuses to believe. Besides, it's... kind of true, he decides as he watches himself in the mirror. So he says quietly, "It does look pretty good, doesn't it?"

"More than good," Mark insists. He looks to the pile of clothes on the bench and asks, "So? What's the verdict?"

"I really like most of them," Jack admits, "especially the ones that you chose. How did you manage to pick all the best ones?"

Mark chuckles. "What, do you think I never had to go shopping with my mom, or with any of my ex-girlfriends?"

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," he replies with a laugh. Mark steps up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jack's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Jack leans back against him for a moment, but says, "You should probably leave now. Someone might get the wrong idea."

"Or the _right_ idea," Mark replies, waggling his eyebrows at him in the mirror. Jack tries to hold in a giggle but fails. "But really, I'm still in here because I have a question."

"What is it?" Jack asks, resting his arms over Mark's and rocking slightly from side to side.

"Do you want any dresses, too, or just the skirts?"

"I've... actually never worn a dress," Jack says, a bit surprised when he realizes it. "I'd be willing to try some on, though."

"Okay. Do you want me to wait until you're done trying these on, so we can go look at them together?"

"Actually, I'm weirdly exhausted," he answers, laughing at himself a little. "If you want, you can pick some, or... I can just try to go on my own some other time."

"I'm not gonna make you go by yourself," Mark says, exasperated. "Unless you _want_ to, of course."

"I really don't," Jack admits.

"Okay, then I'll go grab some. And like I said before, we can always come back another day if you wanna pick some more yourself," he says, kissing Jack's neck before pulling away. He moves to the pile of skirts. "They probably don't want you hoarding a huge amount of clothes in here," he teases. "I'll take these out. Which ones do you wanna keep?"

"Uh... these ones," Jack says, pointing out four of them. They work together to fold them back up, and Mark leaves him alone again.

When he returns a few minutes later, it's with three dresses. He hands two of them to Jack, and then holds the other one up in front of himself with a smirk. "Everyone needs a little black dress," he quotes, posing ridiculously.

Jack rolls his eyes and snatches it out of his hands. "Get outta here, you dork," he says, pushing him toward the door. Mark leans back and digs his heels in. When Jack growls in frustration, he laughs, then holds his hands up in surrender and leaves.

\------

"Be honest, how much did all of those cost?" Jack asks once they're back in the car. He buries his face in his hands, already dreading the answer.

"I'm not telling."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I know you'll beat yourself up about it."

"So it was enough to make me beat myself up," Jack concludes, and Mark groans.

"Would you not have beaten yourself up over the price of even _one_ of those skirts?" he asks skeptically.

"...Okay, yeah, I probably would."

"There you go. My point is proven."

"Fine. I'll pay you back somehow, though."

"You really don't need to," Mark sighs.

"I know, but I want to."

"I'm _not_ taking your money," he reiterates.

"Oh, I know. I never said I'd pay you back with _money_ ," Jack says suggestively, laughing.

"You're horrible," Mark says as he giggles along.

"You love it."

"Never said I didn't." They fall silent, and Jack gazes out the window, thinking the conversation is over. Then Mark suddenly speaks up again. "So, was I right about that black dress, or was I right?"

"...You were right," he says begrudgingly.

"Knew it," Mark sing-songs smugly. "You liked everything else I picked; why did you doubt me about that one?"

"It's not that I doubted you..." Jack replies. Laughing, he clarifies, "You were just being an idiot about it."

"Rude. I _will_ turn this car around and take all those clothes back, mister," Mark says mock-sternly.

"No you won't," he answers confidently.

"And what makes you say that?"

"The fact that _you_ seem more excited about all this than _I_ am."

"I told you, I just wanna be supportive. It's not exactly that I'm _excited_ , per se." He pauses, reconsidering. "Well, I guess I am, but I'm excited _for you_. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does," Jack confirms.

"Good." Mark glances over at him with a worried look. "Are _you_ not excited? Is everything okay?"

He chuckles. "You don't have to worry about me so much, Mark. I'm fine. And I am definitely excited, just tired, too. Here, to prove it, I'll even wear one tonight. Okay?"

Mark laughs quietly. "If you want to, that's great. But I wasn't trying to _make_ you wear them when you don't feel like it or anything."

"I know you weren't. I want to," Jack reassures him.

"Okay, good. I'll look forward to seeing it, then, since you barely let me see any while you were trying them on," Mark pouts, sticking his tongue out.

"Couldn't ruin the surprise all at once, could I?" Jack teases.

"I guess not. It's probably more fun this way."

"Exactly."

\-----

"Holy fuck."

Jack laughs and does a slow turn to show off the deep red dress. "Very eloquent, Mark."

"Well, can you blame me?" he asks, still openly gawking. "My boyfriend is the hottest person on the planet!"

"I think _that's_ a bit of an exaggeration," Jack replies, chuckling.

"Definitely not," Mark denies as Jack moves to the couch and straddles his lap.

"I take it that means you like it."

"I'd say that's a bit of an understatement," he answers, resting his hands on Jack's hips and tilting his head up for a kiss. Jack rises up on his knees, making him strain for it.

"You tease," Mark accuses after he finally manages to catch his lips.

"It's not my fault!" Jack giggles. "You just make it so easy!"

"And you make it so _hard_." Jack gives him an unamused look, and Mark shrugs with a helpless grin. "Sorry, guess I shouldn't have gone for the obvious joke."

After a few seconds, his facade breaks and Jack chokes on a laugh. "...Okay, maybe it was a _little_ funny."

"And maybe it was a _little_ true," Mark says with a raised brow.

"Dinner first," Jack tries to scold, though he's still snickering.

"Well, you'll have to get off me if you wanna eat."

He hums thoughtfully, then plops down with a sly smile. "Nah, I think I like it here," he says, leaning forward for a kiss.

Mark indulges him for a minute, then pulls back. "Well, I guess that only leaves one option, then," he says with a shrug.

"What's tha--aahhh!" Jack yelps as Mark grabs him by the thighs and stands up. He wraps his legs around Mark's waist instinctually and grabs his shoulders. He tries to glare, but it's ruined by his sudden laughter as his boyfriend carries him into the kitchen and sets him down on the table.

"Sorry," Mark says insincerely. "The plan was to sit back down and eat with you sitting on my lap, but then I realized that we haven't actually _made_ dinner yet."

“Mm, that’s okay,” Jack says, feet still locked together behind Mark’s back, trapping him in place. He interlaces his fingers behind Mark’s neck and pulls him down for another long kiss.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Mark says, his lips still brushing Jack’s, “but weren’t you the one that just said ‘dinner first?’”

He shrugs. “I changed my mind.”

“Well, in that case, maybe the bed would be a better place for this,” he whispers, a quiet laugh bubbling up.

“Good point.” Jack doesn’t move though, instead just grinning up at him expectantly.

Eventually, Mark gets what Jack is silently asking for, and he chuckles as he picks him back up again. “You like being manhandled, huh?” he mutters into the crook of his neck as they move down the hall. Then, just because he can and the opportunity is too tempting to pass up, he stops to suck a hickey into Jack’s neck, pushing him against the wall for support while he’s distracted with this suddenly extremely important task.

“Ah, maybe—fuck!” Jack shouts, his hips jerking against Mark’s of their own accord. One hand flies up to tangle in his boyfriend’s hair, the other slapping against the wall. “Hah, Mark. Bed. Now,” Jack pants into his ear before he starts trailing kisses down his jaw.

Mark nips at Jack’s neck again just to hear him moan, then tilts his head to meet him for a kiss. When he pulls back, he’s grinning deviously.

“Your wish is my command.”

\-----

When Jack emerges from the shower and heads back into the bedroom, he finds Mark still in bed. He’s leaning against the headboard, hands behind his head, looking like the self-satisfied, smug bastard he is (and Jack really doesn’t mind in the slightest). He ignores him, instead going to his dresser to pull on a pair of jeans. When he turns back around, Mark is still watching him curiously, and it suddenly makes him feel self-conscious. “What?” he asks defensively. “Is it suddenly wrong for me to feel like wearing pants sometimes?”

“Whoa, hey!” Mark objects, sitting up straighter. “Come on, you know I wasn’t judging, Jack! I was just watching you, okay?”

Jack sighs, falling onto the bed. “I know,” he says, holding Mark’s hand and playing with his fingers. “Sorry I keep getting all twitchy.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m working on it.”

“I know.”

He looks up at Mark through his lashes, chuckling and blushing slightly. “I actually _was_ thinking about putting that red dress back on, but it’s, uh… Kind of ruined for the moment.”

Mark laughs, tugging lightly on Jack’s belt loop. “Well, my question is, why did you bother getting dressed at all? Take those off and let’s just go to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Jack inhales deeply and lets it out slowly. “God, yeah, it really has. I wouldn’t usually be able to sleep yet, but… Yeah. I’ll try.”

“Good. It’d be nice to fall asleep with you on the other side of the bed for once.”

Jack tilts his head, brows furrowing. “Shit. I’m sorry, Mark… I never even thought about that.”

Mark shrugs and smiles softly. “It’s alright. I’m not gonna force you to go to bed when I know you’re not tired and probably have insomnia or something. I wouldn’t object to some cuddling every once in a while, though,” he suggests with a goofy grin.

“Alright, I get it,” Jack says, laughing. He stands to remove his jeans, leaving them pooled on the floor, then crawls over Mark to the other side of the bed. As he burrows into the blankets, he stretches his arms out toward his boyfriend and says, “Let’s cuddle and get some sleep, then, ya big goober.”


	3. Chapter 3

"So, what kind of day is it?" Mark asks from where he's bent over, digging through the drawers. He peers over his shoulder at Jack, who just leers.

"I think it's a 'bring that ass back to bed' kind of day."

Mark sighs, but a quiet laugh escapes. "You know what I meant."

"Yes I do, but my answer is still valid." When his boyfriend just continues to watch him expectantly, Jack rolls his eyes. "Fine, ruin my fun," he sighs dramatically. "Sweatpants."

"Okay, I know I said I'd never judge you for what you want to wear, but... Really?"

"Hey!" he objects, laughing. "You have no idea how cold skirts are until you wear them every day for a week straight. I have a whole new appreciation for nice, warm, cuddly, ugly clothes."

"I'm just kidding."

"I know, so am I. It _is_ true, though." Mark tosses him his sweatpants, and Jack crawls out of bed with a groan. "Shirt?"

"Hey, you just said you wanted the pants," Mark answers with a smirk.

"You're the worst," Jack says, moving past him to grab a shirt himself. Before he can put it on, Mark loops an arm around his waist and pulls him in for a long kiss.

"I’m sorry. Does that make up for it?" he pouts, aiming wide eyes at him.

Jack hums thoughtfully and eventually answers, "Not quite. But you know what would?"

"Food?" he guesses.

"You know me so well."

"Alright, I'll go start on breakfast," Mark says, chuckling.

"Thank you honey," Jack sings. He grins when it just makes Mark laugh harder. Once his boyfriend's left the room, he pulls on the shirt and then grabs one of Mark's sweaters off the floor to top off his lazy-day-at-home outfit.

When he's done getting ready for the day, he moves into the kitchen and sneaks up on Mark, hugging him from behind. "Hi."

"Hi." Mark twists in his arms to kiss him. "You're wearing my sweater," he observes with a fond smile.

"I am."

"Well, at least you'll be warm today."

"I'd be warmer if you'd come cuddle with me," Jack suggests with an angelic grin.

Mark gives a fake sigh. "You really gotta stop sending me all these mixed signals, babe. You want food, then you want sex instead. You want food, then you want _cuddles_ instead."

"Well, I always want food," he answers, giggling. "But I also always want you."

"Aww, that's so sweet and incredibly sappy. But you'll have to wait until I'm done cooking," Mark says, turning back to the stove.

"Alright." He shrugs and rests his chin on Mark's shoulder. "I'll just wait here, then."

"Fine with me," Mark replies. "Just watch out for my elbows."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack answers, dodging one as Mark flips an egg. "Mmm, it smells delicious. Thanks babe."

"You're welcome. Love you."

"Love you too." He stays where he is for a few more minutes, watching over Mark's shoulder while he cooks, then sighs and slides away. "I'm bored now. I'll meet you in the living room when you're done."

"Okay. Put on something we'll both like," he calls.

"I will!" Jack turns on the TV and curls up at one end of the couch to watch it. A while later, he's startled out of his daze by a blanket suddenly filling his vision. He rolls his head back to look at Mark as he covers Jack carefully. "Thanks."

"Mmhmm." Mark hands him a plate, then circles around the couch to join him, snuggling up to his side. "Today's gonna be a good day," he says, sounding completely confident.

"Yeah, I think you're right."


	4. Chapter 4

"I, um... I braved the store by myself today," Jack says out of nowhere one day. He sounds simultaneously nervous and proud, which tells Mark exactly what he's talking about.

"Yeah?" Mark asks, turning a huge grin on him. "How'd it go?"

"Better than I feared," he admits.

"Can I see?" Mark asks, careful to keep his tone neutral and not pressure him.

Jack nods. "Yeah, that'd be okay. I'll be right back," he says, unfolding himself from the couch and disappearing down the hall.

When he reappears a minute later in a yellow sundress, Mark grins. "You know, I think that's my favorite one so far."

"Really?" Jack asks, smiling as he sits back down next to him.

"Yeah, it's all bright and sunny. It suits your personality."

Jack laughs and blushes, flattered. "Thanks." He hesitates for a few seconds, then says quietly. "I think I might be ready for someone else to see."

"Are you sure?"

He takes a deep breath, considers it for a minute, and finally nods. "Yeah, as long as it's someone I know won't judge."

"Okay... How about Wade, since we're going to see him tomorrow anyways?"

"Yeah, that'd be okay."

"Alright. Do you want me to call ahead and explain the situation to him, so he won't be surprised?"

"...Yeah, thanks. I'd appreciate it."

"Okay. I'm so proud of you, baby."

"I'm still terrified," Jack says with a laugh. "I'm just doing it anyways because I know I'll never get past it if I don't try."

"That's exactly what being brave _means_!"

"If you say so." Mark looks ready to argue more, but Jack just smiles up at him. "Okay, okay, 'I'm being brave.' I'm just nervous."

"That's okay. I'll go call Wade, alright? Be back in a minute," Mark says.  He stands up halfway, but Jack catches his hand, pulling lightly until he leans back down for a kiss.

"Have I told you lately that you're the best boyfriend ever and I love you?"

"Hmm, maybe, but it's always nice to hear. It's not true, though, because _you're_ the best boyfriend ever."

"We're ridiculous. Will you marry me?"

"What?" Mark asks, chuckling as he gives him a confused look.

"No, really," Jack says, squeezing Mark's hand tighter as he slides to the floor on one knee. "I was gonna wait ‘til later to do this, but I guess now’s as good a time as any, right?” He swallows and takes a few short, shallow breaths, then pulls a box out of his pocket and opens it. “I love you so much, and you've been so accepting and helped me through times when I was absolutely terrified. When I wanted to hate myself, you wouldn't let me. I want to do everything I can to support you like that, too. I want to wake up next to you every morning and go to sleep next to you every night. I want to be by your side and do whatever I can to make you happy and keep that gorgeous smile on your face. We've been together for five years now, and I want to be with you for so much longer. For the rest of our lives, if you'll let me. Will you marry me?" He finally looks up, pulse pounding in his ears. There are tears streaming down Mark's grinning face.

"Of course I will, Jack!"

A relieved giggle bubbles out of Jack's throat, and he slides the ring onto Mark's finger. "I love you," he says, standing up to kiss him.

"I love you, too," Mark says, laughing as he attempts to wipe his tears away. "You made me cry, you ass."

"Well, you made me cry, too!" Jack says, and sure enough, his eyes are watering despite the broad smile on his face. "God, I'm so fucking happy."

"So am I," Mark assures him, pulling him in for a tight hug. They just stand there for a few minutes, swaying back and forth together and soaking in the moment. Eventually, Mark says, "I think there was something I was supposed to be doing, but I'm not sure it matters anymore."

"Calling Wade," Jack reminds him. "And I think it might actually be _more_ important now. Go tell him the good news!"

Mark gives an exaggerated sigh. "If you insist..." He trails off, clearly hoping that Jack will change his mind. Instead, he just chuckles, holding Mark's hand and running his thumb over the ring. 

 "I do," he confirms, smirking when Mark gives him a pout. "Hey, we've got the whole rest of the day," he soothes.

 "Well, when you put it that way..." Mark drawls with a smile. "Alright, I'll get it over with, and then we're spending the rest of the day together, my dear husband-to-be."

 Jack laughs. "There should really be a less formal-sounding word for fiancé," he says, but he's grinning from ear to ear at the phrase anyway.

 "Yeah, there should be... Maybe we should just make one up ourselves."

 "Hmm... That might be taking it a little too far," Jack says. Mark looks ready to answer, but he silences him with a kiss. "Okay, that's enough stalling. Go now."

 "Damn, I didn't think you'd catch on that quickly."

 "Just go already, dork!" Jack says, giving him a light push towards the doorway. "The faster you do it, the more time we have to celebrate. And we've got special plans for tonight."

 "We do?" Mark questions, looking over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. 

 "Yes, we do, and no, I'm not telling you what they are. Now shoo!"

 "Alright, alright. I'm going!" he says, rolling his eyes. He pauses, turning around and opening his mouth to say something. After a few seconds, he just shakes his head with a grin and settles for, "I love you."

 "I love you too."

 "I don't wanna go."

 "It'll only take a few minutes," Jack says with a laugh. "I would sit with you while you talk to Wade, but I'm not really sure I want to hear that conversation."

 "...Okay, I'm going. Don't do anything without me."

 "Nah, I'm gonna throw a crazy party while you're gone,” he says sarcastically. “You're being extremely mushy again."

 "Can you blame me? We just got engaged, for christ's sake! That's pretty huge!"

 "I know. I get it," Jack assures him. "And we'll have plenty of time to celebrate and be stupidly clingy, okay?"

 "...I'll be back in just a few minutes."

 "I'm counting on it."


	5. Chapter 5

“You ready?” Mark asks, glancing to Jack.

“Nope,” Jack answers, smiling slightly at his fiancée. He does a little nervous dance, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and pulls at the frayed hem of his denim skirt. “I’ll never really be ready. Ring the doorbell anyways.”

Mark shrugs and does as he’s told. A few seconds later, the door opens and Wade appears. “Hey guys, come on in!” He waves them in, and though his eyes stray down to the skirt curiously, his smile doesn’t fade.

“How’ve you been, man?” Mark asks as they follow Wade into the living room.

He laughs. “Fine, but I’m pretty sure _I_ should be the one asking _you_ that. It seems like there’s a lot going on with you two that I haven’t heard about!” Jack tenses slightly, but Wade just looks pointedly at the rings on their fingers.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Mark says. “I… definitely didn’t see it coming.”

“I had a plan,” Jack swears, laughing at himself. “I just… kind of abandoned it because I couldn’t wait even one second longer.”

“Aww, did you have a big romantic evening planned?” Mark teases, nudging his hip lightly with his own.

“Actually, yes.”

Mark just gives him a grin to show that he was joking. Jack smiles back and leans in to kiss him, but pulls away when movement at the doorway catches his attention. His breathing goes shallow as he feels the beginnings of panic rise up. He turns to Wade and, unaware of how rude it might sound, says, “I thought you said Molly wouldn’t be home today.”

Mark squeezes his hand, and he focuses on it to ground himself as Molly wanders farther into the room to join them. “I wasn’t going to be, but when he told me that you two got engaged, I just _had_ to stay to congratulate you,” she says, not taking any offense. “So, congratulations!”

“Thanks, Molly,” Mark says.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jack croaks out.

Molly’s eyes scan over his body, and Jack freezes, clutching Mark’s hand hard enough that it must be painful. “I like your outfit, by the way,” she says casually, with no hint of judgment. Then she turns around and moves back to the doorway, asking over her shoulder, “Anyone want anything to eat or drink?”

Jack turns to Mark with a shocked expression, having trouble processing what’s just happened. Mark just smiles and shrugs, letting go of his hand to instead wrap his arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Water would be great, for both of us,” he calls. “Thanks, Molly.”

“No problem!” she yells from the kitchen. She brings out their glasses a moment later, and Jack gulps down half of his in a matter of moments. Molly raises an eyebrow but says nothing, only giving him a soft smile. Wade takes a seat in the recliner, and she perches on the armrest, leaning into him when he wraps an arm around her waist. “So, you have to tell us the whole story,” she prompts, and Wade nods in agreement.

Jack looks to Mark, who only shakes his head with a slightly amused look. They both turn back to the other couple with helpless shrugs. Mark sits down on the couch, chuckling when Jack joins him and scoots so close that he’s practically in Mark’s lap. “Um, well,” Jack starts, chewing on his bottom lip. He crosses his legs uncomfortably and starts babbling. “We were just sitting on the couch talking, and then Mark got up to call Wade, and… I made a joke about wanting to marry him, but it was really only partially a joke, and I had the ring in my pocket, so… I just knelt down and asked him to marry me for real. I gave some sappy speech that hopefully sounded decent, but I was honestly so nervous that I don’t remember a word I said.”

“Something about wanting to wake up next to me every day and make me smile all the time—which you _do_ ,” Mark supplies. He idly twirls a lock of Jack’s hair around his finger, watching him with hearts in his eyes. “I’ll admit that I was kind of freaking out and only remembered about half of it, too, but obviously it couldn’t have been _too_ bad of a speech, since I was crying _happy_ tears by the end.”

“Aww, that’s adorable,” Wade coos, only half teasing.

“It really is,” Molly agrees, grinning.

“Then what happened?” Wade asks. He pauses for a moment, cringing. “Uh, don’t answer that if the answer is that you had celebratory sex or something.”

“ _Then_ Jack put the ring on my finger, we kissed, and he _totally ruined the moment_ by making me go call you anyways,” Mark accuses with a pointed look at his fiancée.

Jack just laughs. “Hey, we had plenty of time to bask in the moment afterwards!” he objects. “We got to sit around all day being happy and cheesy, and I still took you out for that fancy dinner I had planned!”

“It _was_ pretty damn good food,” Mark admits with a shrug.

“Why do I get the feeling that you two bribe each other with food _a lot_?” Molly asks.

“Maybe because you see it every single time we go to their house,” Wade suggests with a smirk.

“It _is_ a pretty common occurrence,” Jack confesses, chuckling.

“Well, that was a slightly less dramatic story than I was expecting,” Molly says. “Still cute, though. But now…”

“Game night?” Jack finishes for her. “That’s why we came here, after all.”

“Exactly.”

“You and Wade against me and Jack?” Mark asks, smirking.

“Hey now, that’s just not fair!” Wade says. Beaming, he adds on, “You’d need a third person to have any hope of beating us!”

“Only if we’re playing one of the games that you cheat at all the time!” Jack yells.

Mark nods sagely, rubbing his back as Jack leans forward, clearly getting into it as he and Wade toss barbs back and forth. Molly rolls her eyes in his direction, and Mark just shrugs; he can’t judge, after all, since he’d normally join them in a second flat. The only reason he doesn’t this time is that his mood is too high for even a pretend fight. Instead, he just plays Jack’s back-up for the night; he throws in casual agreements and nods at the right moments, and does his best to help out once they actually get around to playing.

At the end of the night, Molly and Wade have won one more game than them, but with the grin on Jack’s face, it really doesn’t feel like a loss.

\-----

When they walk in the door to their house, Mark immediately wraps his arms around Jack’s waist and pulls him closer. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, resting their foreheads together with a smile.

“Great,” Jack answers honestly, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “That went… a lot better than I thought it would. I kind of panicked at first when I saw Molly.”

“I noticed,” Mark says, chuckling quietly. “You were okay after a while, though, right?”

“Yeah. They treated it so normally that I actually forgot all about it at some point.”

“Good. That’s exactly how it should be.”

Jack nods, then glances at the closest clock. “It’s getting pretty late. You going to bed?”

Mark lets out a sudden yawn and laughs. “Well, there’s my answer, I guess. Yeah. Care to join me?”

Jack hums, head tilting from side to side as he thinks. “I’m not really tired yet. I think I’m gonna try to get a little work done, but I _promise_ I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Alright,” he agrees. They kiss one more time, and then he backs away. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Jack watches as Mark walks down the hall to their bedroom, stumbling slightly in his drowsiness. When he disappears through the door, Jack finally looks away and moves into their makeshift office. He plugs in his headphones, triple checking that the speakers are off so the sound won’t wake up Mark, and gets to work.

It’s not long before he has to stifle a yawn. Jack blinks, checking the time again. The clock on the computer confirms that it’s only around midnight, so he shakes it off and continues. A few minutes later, he yawns again, and finds himself spacing out as he works. Worried that he might mess up the video file, he gives in. Jack shuts down the computer and moves to the bedroom, flicking off any lights as he goes.

He undresses and crawls into bed as carefully as possible, but the movement of the mattress jostles Mark awake. “Hey,” he says with a sleepy smile. “You’re here.”

“I am,” Jack whispers. “Said I would be, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. It’s still nice, though.”

“Come ‘ere,” Jack says, rolling onto his back and pulling his fiancée closer.

Mark happily follows, curling closer and resting his head on Jack’s chest with a contented hum. “G’night,” he mumbles tiredly.

Jack presses a kiss to his hair, closing his eyes as he feels sleep already trying to drag him under. “Night,” he echoes. “See you in the morning.”


	6. Chapter 6

"I think I'm ready for the next step," Jack says as they lay in bed one morning.

"The party tomorrow night?" Mark guesses, and he nods. "I'm so proud of you, babe."

 Jack purses his lips thoughtfully. "To be honest, I'm pretty proud of myself, too. I guess it's just all about those baby steps."

 "You should be," Mark replies earnestly. "And they might be baby steps, but that's how you get anywhere. Just one step at a time. And you've been taking them faster than I ever would have expected."

 "I hadn't taken a single step at all before you were there to help me," Jack says. He lifts Mark's hand off the pillow between them, staring at the ring as he idly rubs his thumb over it.

 Mark flips his hand to squeeze Jack's with a gentle smile. "I haven't done a thing. I might have been here to support you along the way, but you've done all the work. You're the one facing all your fears."

 "Still, I'm glad you're here. Not just as support right now, but just... in general." He gives a breathy laugh. "God, I can't believe we're getting married. I'm the luckiest man on the planet."

 "Mm, I think that title goes to me," Mark argues. "At most, you're tied." He pushes himself up onto his elbows, resting one on either side of Jack's head.

 He leans down to kiss him, then pulls back with a smile. "Time to get up now."

 "You're not making a very convincing argument," Jack says with a laugh when Mark lets himself fall, resting his weight on Jack's chest.

 "I know."

 "We can afford to stay in bed for a few more hours, can't we?"

 "...We shouldn't."

 "That's not what I asked."

 Mark sighs, but it's offset by the fond smile he gives Jack. "Yes, we _can._  Happy now?"

 "Very," he answers, grinning back. "Then that's what we're doing today."

 "Fine, but we have to get up at some point," Mark says, rolling off of Jack and leaving only his head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. "I've got recordings to finish."

 "I _suppose_ that's acceptable," he says with an exaggerated sigh. He runs a hand through Mark's hair, staring at the ceiling silently for a few minutes and just enjoying the peace. "This is nice."

 Mark distractedly hums an agreement, and a few seconds later, he asks, "Hey, Jack?"

 "Yeah?"

 Tracing random circles and lines over Jack's stomach and chest, he asks, "Do you think I could help you pick your outfit for the party?"

 "You really have fun dressing me up, don't you?" Jack asks, laughing but hesitant to actually answer. 

 Mark shrugs as best he can from where he's lying. "I guess so? It's just... I don't know how to explain it."

 "Try," he insists gently. 

 "You won't get mad at me?"

 "As long as you aren't gonna be an asshole on purpose, no. I promise I'll try not to get upset."

 "Okay." Mark takes a deep breath and attempts to put his feelings into words as well as possible. "I guess it's just... You always look good, but you don't seem to believe that. But when you _do_ feel like you look good,  you seem happier and more confident. And I just feel like that happens more often when you're wearing skirts or dresses, and I like being a part of that."

 "Okay... Why would I be mad about that?"

 "Because of the part I didn't say..."

 "And what's that?" Jack asks flatly. 

 "...That I also kind of just like seeing you in something I picked, almost as much as I like seeing you in my clothes, and that I enjoy showing you off?" Mark says reluctantly. He laughs, bracing for a smack to the shoulder, but it never comes. He glances up to see Jack still staring at the ceiling, apparently lost in thought, and wonders if he even heard him. 

 "...Okay," Jack says after a minute. 

 "Okay?"

 "Okay. You can pick."

 "Are you sure?"

 "Yeah. I mean, I trust you, and there are only so many options anyways. So why not?" he says, shrugging with a loud exhale.

 "You don't sound so certain," Mark observes, and Jack shrugs again.  

 "It's just kind of weird, handing over control to someone else. And of my _clothes,_ of all things," he says with a laugh. "But I am sure. If you really want to, then it's a yes."

 "Thank you. I'll pick something good," Mark promises. He stops tracing circles on Jack's skin, instead lifting his hand up to look at the engagement ring. After a minute's thought, he asks, "Babe?"

 "What now?" Jack asks, chuckling.

 "Would you wanna wear a dress at our wedding?"

 "Hmm... Well, that's kind of a big decision, so I'd have to think about it, but... I don't think so."

 "Oh? Why not?" Mark questions, just curious, not pressing.

 "I don't know; I guess just because... tradition? Obviously, in some ways, our wedding won't be traditional, but I'd like it if at least some parts are," Jack answers. Giggling, he adds,  "Also, I've heard that wedding dresses are insanely heavy, and I'd rather be as comfortable as possible if we're gonna be standing around for hours."

 "Alright," Mark says with a laugh. "I was just wondering."

 "And..." Jack trails off, hesitant. 

 "What?"

 "I... haven't exactly told my parents," Jack says, feeling a bit ashamed. "Or anyone, really. It took long enough for my family to accept that I was bi and seeing a man. Mally's the only one that knows about the crossdressing. I don't think the rest of them could handle it. Ma might actually have a heart attack," he finishes in an attempt at humor. His laughter isn't very convincing.

 "Babe..." Mark says, pushing back onto his elbows and looking at his fiancé sadly. Jack bites his lip and looks away, so Mark gently tilts his head back. "Hey, look at me. It's okay."

 "I don't think it is," Jack says quietly. 

 "Then it's not, and that's alright. But it _will_ be. Are you upset that you haven't told them, or that you don't think they'll accept you?"

 "Both." He rolls his eyes up, trying to blink away the tears before they can form.

 Mark makes a small, sad sound and sits up, directing Jack until he moves to lay with his head in his lap. As Mark starts carding his fingers through Jack's hair, he says, "Look, it's not your fault if they can't be decent human beings and support their own son. That's on them, okay?"

 "Logically, I know that's true, but..."

 "I know. It's not as easy to really _believe_. I wish there was more that I could say to help. But aside from that, it's okay that you haven't told them, too. I know your relationship with your family is important to you, and it's entirely up to you what you do or don't tell them. Please don't blame yourself for that."

 "I haven't even told them we're engaged, Mark," he admits miserably. 

 Mark's hand freezes in Jack's hair, and he blinks in surprise, but he resumes his movements after a moment. "Okay. Like I said, it's up to you."

 "No, Mark!" Jack says frantically, sitting up and turning to face him. "Please don't misunderstand. I _want_ to tell them about that. And I _will_. I just need to... build up to it. But I want them to be there."

 "Okay," Mark answers simply, taking hold of his hands. "Take as long as you need."

 "Have you told _your_ family yet?" Jack asks worriedly.

 "Yeah. Um..." He pauses, swallowing. "Uh, Thomas and Dee will be at the wedding. They both gave their blessings and said they'll drop anything else to be there, whenever it is."

 "Oh god, Mark... I'm so sorry," Jack says, hearing what he _isn't_ saying loud and clear. "I was so wrapped up in myself..." He trails off, hugging Mark tightly and kissing the top of his head.

 "Thanks, Jack..." he mumbles into his shoulder. "It's okay, though. I kind of expected it at this point, honestly."

 "Still... That's terrible. She should be ashamed."

 "Hey, she's still my mom," Mark objects weakly.

 "I know, but... She's not acting like a very good one right now. What kind of mother refuses to go her son's wedding?" Jack asks in disbelief. 

 Mark takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and sits up straight again. "It's okay. We'll both be okay, alright?"

 Jack nods. "If nothing else, we've got each other."

 "Exactly. Now how about we stop dwelling on depressing stuff and go eat ice cream for breakfast?"

 "That just might be the best idea I've ever heard."

 -----

 "This one?" Jack asks skeptically, staring into the mirror at the "little black dress" Mark had chosen during that first shopping trip. 

 "Yeah. I was considering the yellow one, but I thought something a tiny bit more formal might be better for the party. Besides, the only time you've worn it was when you tried it on. I _knew_ it would look good on you," Mark says, clearly pleased with his choice.

 "It's a bit short, don't you think?"

 "You'll knock 'em dead," he insists. When Jack just tugs on the end uncomfortably, Mark sighs and moves to hug him. "Of course you get the final say, though. If it bothers you, then we can go back to the yellow one, or whichever other one you want."

 Jack makes a face at the mirror and carefully looks himself over again. He eventually gives a resolute nod and decides, "No, I'll wear this."

 "Are you sure? It didn't seem like you like it very much."

 "That's not it. I like it," he clarifies. "It's just... a bit awkward. But that's what it's all about, right? Baby steps. Getting out of my comfort zone."

 Mark smiles at him in the mirror and kisses his cheek. "Exactly."

 Jack takes a deep breath and stands up taller, looking himself in the eyes. "Right. Well, this will definitely get me out of my comfort zone."

 -----

 "They're whispering," Jack mutters out of the side of his mouth. He aims his brightest smile at a few of the party guests, subtly squeezing Mark's hand harder. 

 "It's all in your mind," Mark says quietly. "You're worried they'll talk about you, so you think that they are."

 "Mark, I'm not a child," he says, continuing to force a smile past gritted teeth. "You don't have to sugarcoat it."

 "Alright, fine. Yes, maybe a few people are staring or whispering, but they'll stop as soon as they see that you don't care."

 "But I _do_ care," Jack whines.

 "I know, but you have to _pretend_ you don't!"

 Before he can answer, Bob appears in front of them. "Hey guys, I'm so glad you could come!" he says, patting their shoulders. His familiar grin is welcoming, and Jack feels himself relax a bit.

 "Just fake it 'til you make it," he mutters to himself. 

 "What was that?" Bob asks. 

 "Nothing," Jack answers with a smile that feels more real than before. "Thanks for having us, Bob."

 "Of course! I couldn't just _not_ invite you!" he says as though the idea is completely insane. "By the way, there's food and drinks--alcoholic and otherwise--in the kitchen if you want any."

 "Thanks, Bob. I think I'll take you up on that right now, actually. You want anything, babe?" Mark shakes his head, and Jack shrugs and walks off as the other two start talking. His nerves start to reappear as he crosses the room on his own, but the kitchen is blessedly empty. He takes a few moments there to just breathe and calm down, hopping onto a stool at the breakfast bar. Jack laughs quietly as he grabs a cliché red Solo cup and fills it with punch before taking a sip. "Definitely spiked," he says to himself, though he can't tell what exactly it's been mixed with. He sits there for a few more minutes, drinking and munching on a few chips just to stall, before standing up with a sigh and heading back out to the party. 

 "Hey, Jack!" someone shouts as he enters the room. He turns to see Felix waving and grins, making his way over. A quick glance around the room tells him that Mark has disappeared, so Jack shrugs to himself and decides to spend some quality time with his friend until his fiancé returns. "Daamnn," Felix drawls, laughing, as he gets closer. "Lookin' good, Jack!"

 Jack laughs. "Thanks, I think."

 "Is it a dare or something?" he asks. "Lose a bet?"

 "Oh, um... No..." Jack answers, looking at his feet. He takes another drink to avoid having to explain any further, but Felix seems to understand anyways.

 "Oh," he gasps. "Oohhh... Well, that's cool, man. Whatever, you know?"

 "It... doesn't bother you?" Jack asks, raising an eyebrow. 

 "Hey, it's your life. It's got nothing to do with me," Felix answers with a shrug. "Besides, have you seen half the shit I wear in my videos?"

 "Yeah, but that's for entertainment, not for... I don't know, yourself."

 "Look, the short answer is no. It doesn't bother me, okay? And you can tell anyone who _is_ bothered by it to suck your dick, because it's none of their damn business."

 "Thanks, Felix," Jack says, chuckling. 

 "No problem, man."

 “So, how’ve you been? Anything exciting happen lately?”

 “I’ve got some big stuff on the way, but I can’t talk about it yet,” Felix answers with a wink. “Nobody knows about it except me.”

 “Not even Marzia?” he asks skeptically.

 “…Okay, maybe Marzia knows about it.”

 “And what about Brad and Michael?” Jack asks, laughing at Felix’s frustrated expression.

 “Moving on!” he shouts abruptly, startling another laugh out of Jack. “How about you? How’s life goin’ for ya?”

 "Well…” He grins, holding up his hand to show off the engagement ring. “I’d say there’s been some pretty big news.”

 “No kidding!” Felix says with a huge smile. “Congratulations, dude! Cheers!” he says, holding up his cup.

 Jack giggles and taps his own against it, and they each take a big gulp of their punch. “Thanks. I won’t lie, I’m pretty damn excited about it all.”

 “I’d be worried if you weren’t!” Felix grimaces as someone stumbles into him, quickly steadying his drink so it doesn’t spill. He gestures toward the sliding glass door with his head. “Wanna go out on the balcony to talk? It’s getting a little crowded in here.”

 “Sure, uh…” Jack glances down at his nearly empty cup in surprise. “Just let me grab another drink first.”

 “Alright. I’ll go with you; I could use a refill, too.”

 -----

 When Mark finally manages to find Jack, it’s nearly three in the morning. He finds him asleep on the balcony. He’s lying on a lawn chair with Felix, slumped halfway on top of him.

 “Hey, man. Sorry, he’s pretty wasted,” Felix says when Mark steps out and closes the door behind himself. Realizing how bad it looks, he jolts upright, surprisingly not waking Jack. “Shit! I know how this looks, but I swear nothing happened! We were just out here, drinking and talking, and I guess he gets a little… cuddly when he’s drunk. I would never do that to you, though, and neither would Jack. I _swear_ he’s just been sleeping.”

 “Calm down, Felix,” Mark says with a small smile. “It’s okay. I believe you. I trust you more than that. Besides, I know Jack would never cheat on me, especially since he just proposed.”

 The other man slumps with a relieved sigh. “Thank fuck.”

 Mark chuckles and gently jostles Jack’s shoulder, shaking until he blinks awake. “Mm, hi Mark,” he mumbles happily, reaching up for a hug.

 Mark hugs him and pushes lightly until he rolls over and swings his legs off the chair. “Hey, Jack,” he replies. “Time to get you home, okay?”

 “Mmkay,” Jack agrees, accepting Mark’s help with standing up. Turning to Felix, he says with a slight slur, “Thanks for keepin’ me company. And sorry ‘bout usin’ you as a pillow.”

 “No problem, man. Go get some sleep, and call or text or something tomorrow so I know you survived the hangover.”

 Jack giggles. “Will do,” he says with a little salute. He turns back to Mark, and they make their way back through the house, Mark supporting his weight as he tries not to weave from side to side. “I don’t feel so hot,” he complains when they make it to the car.

 “No kidding,” Mark says, shifting Jack so that he’s leaning against the car while he goes around to the other side. He unlocks the doors and Jack slides in, buckling up before letting his head roll forward tiredly. “How much did you have to drink?”

 “…I stopped paying attention once it really kicked in,” Jack admits, embarrassed.

 “Christ, Jack…” Mark shakes his head, watching his fiancée for a moment before rolling his eyes and starting the car. “Well, you’re an adult. I’m not gonna tell you what to do. But I will say that you’ll face the consequences in the morning.”

 “I know,” Jack replies miserably. He can already feel the nausea, and he dreads the massive headache that he knows will come in a few more hours.

 “Seems like you had fun, though.”

 He nods, grinning. “Yeah. I was kinda scared to leave your side at first, but Felix hung out with me all night. Robin came out at some point, too. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

 “That’s good,” Mark answers genuinely. He moves his hand to Jack’s leg, rubbing lightly, and Jack rests his own over it and squeezes.

 “Love you,” he sings. His eyes are mostly closed, but his smile is even bigger than usual.

 “Love you too.”

 “You’re gonna take care of me in the mornin’, right?”

 Mark laughs derisively, and Jack scowls. “Um, nope. You’re gonna deal with this one on your own.”

 -----

 Despite Mark’s words, Jack still wakes up to find a bucket on the floor next to the bed, and some ibuprofen and water on the nightstand. He sits up with a grin, then groans when the movement makes his head feel like it’s splitting in half. He takes the medicine and makes a mental note to find some way to thank his fiancée once he’s in better shape.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last chapter! I hope you all have enjoyed it! :)
> 
> Warning for a homophobic slur in this chapter.

“I’m dying,” Mark whines melodramatically from somewhere under the pile of a hundred blankets on the couch.

 “No you aren’t,” Jack answers, rolling his eyes and laughing.

 “I might be,” Mark says, peeking his head out to glare at him. “What if it’s something really serious? You’ll regret not taking me seriously when I _die_!”

 “Mark, you have the _flu_.”

 “You don’t know that!”

 “I’m pretty sure it’s just a flu,” he repeats matter-of-factly. “You just turn into a child when you’re sick.”

 Mark growls in frustration, wincing when it makes his throat hurt even worse than it already did. Then he decides to change his tactics, turning the puppy-dog eyes on Jack. “I took care of you while you were hungover; you should take care of me while I’m sick. Can’t you at least make me some soup, _please_?”

 Jack groans, turning a long-suffering look on him. Mark dials the puppy-dog eyes up to eleven, and he sighs loudly. “Fine,” he relents.

 “Yay, thank you!” As Jack gets out of his chair, he wiggles into a more comfortable position and asks, “And while you’re up, can you hand me the remote?”

 Jack purses his lips and tosses the remote at Mark’s lap. It bounces harmlessly on the blankets, and he turns away, heading for the kitchen. Peering into the cupboard, he calls, “Steak and potato or chicken noodle?”

 “Ooh, chicken noodle!” Mark croons happily.

 Jack chuckles quietly and grabs the can and a pot. He heats it up on the stove, because it may take longer, but everything always tastes better when it’s cooked on the stove than in the microwave. While it’s cooking, he butters two piece of bread and sets them on a tray. The soup joins it once it done, and he digs under the sink for the designated “puke bucket.” Jack brings them back out to the living room, settling the tray on Mark’s lap and the bucket on the floor. “Try to keep it down, okay?” he says, ruffling Mark’s hair.

 The other man nods, taking a small bite of bread, then looks back up with wide eyes. “Water?” he asks hopefully. Jack rolls his eyes, but fetches him a glass of water and leaves it on the coffee table. “Thank you. Sweetie?” Mark sings.

 “Don’t play all innocent and try to suck up to me,” Jack jokes. “What do you want now?”

 “Just a kiss,” he pouts, hanging his head. Jack laughs and kisses his cheek, but Mark tries to turn his head. “I meant on the lips!” he says indignantly.

 “Uh-uh, nope,” Jack answers, backing away with his hands up. “I am not falling for that again. You’re not getting me sick this time.”

 “It’s not like I _tried_ to get you sick last time,” Mark objects.

 “But it still happened, and it’s not gonna happen again. You can have all the kisses you want once you’re better.”

 “Fine,” Mark says, frowning. He takes a moment to think about what Jack really said and perks up. “Does that mean that we can just spend all day in bed making out?”

 “Hey, I’ve never had a problem with that idea,” Jack says, laughing. “You’re the one always saying that we should get up because we have responsibilities and shit.”

 Mark giggles, but it makes him start coughing and wheezing. Once the coughing fit is over, he says, “Well, not this time. When I get better, we’re only leaving the bed to eat and piss.”

 “You’ll hear no objections from me.”

 -----

 “What happened to not leaving bed all day?” Jack complains. “If you’re not sick anymore, then why are we out and about?”

 “Because we need food,” Mark says simply.

 Right on cue, Jack’s stomach growls, and he laughs. “Okay, fine. I guess I can’t be mad if it means we won’t starve. But you’re keeping that promise tomorrow.”

 “I am more than okay with that.” As they walk down the street toward the grocery store, Mark hears a small noise from Jack and turns to look at him. He’s humming quietly and drumming along on his legs to the song in his head. Mark smiles. “You seem more relaxed than usual today.”

 Jack shrugs as he loops his arm through Mark’s and leans against him. “I’ve been getting more and more comfortable with wearing skirts and dresses, especially when you’re the only one who will see, but jean days are still always more relaxing. I don’t have to worry so much about being on guard constantly.”

 Just as Mark opens his mouth to reply, a teenager with a camouflage baseball cap drives by. “Faggots!” he yells out the open window before zooming off.

 Jack freezes for a moment, a look of rage crosses his face. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. Then he shrugs at Mark with a tiny smile. “Mostly,” he corrects his earlier statement.

 Mark grits his teeth. “That guy was just an asshole. Don’t listen to him.”

 Jack laughs. “You think I don’t already know that? It’s okay, Mark. It pisses me off, but that’s about it. I was getting comments like that long before I even met you. I can handle it.”

 "Well, you shouldn't _have_ to deal with it. It shouldn't happen so often that you're used to it. I wish dicks like that would stop undermining your confidence."

 "Mark! Seriously, I'm _fine_ ," Jack insists, waving his hand in Mark's face to grab his attention. "Nobody's 'undermining' anything, okay? Besides, I should be more worried about _you_. That comment was aimed at both of us, in case you didn't notice."

 "Oh, I noticed," Mark replies. "I just don't care enough to do anything about it."

 "Well then, there you have it."

 "What?" he asks, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

 "You don't care, and neither do I," Jack clarifies. "You just have to let some things roll off your back. Immature assholes like that guy are just looking for attention, and they don't deserve it. So I try not to give it to them."

 "Alright," Mark sighs. "I get it. I'll drop it now."

 "Thank you."

 -----

 "Uh, Jack?"

 "Yeah?" Jack asks, turning away from the front door to look at his fiancée.

 Mark bites his lip, hesitating to say what's on his mind. In the end, he decides it would be better for Jack if he stops him now. "You forgot to change."

 "No I didn't," Jack says simply, but the look on his face betrays the fear that he's truly feeling. He takes a deep breath and then sits on the arm of the couch, settling in for what might be a long talk. He stares down at his bare legs, swinging them and kicking at the air. "You know that talk we had yesterday?"

 "Which one?"

 "About how some people are going to be douchebags no matter what, and you just have to let it go," he reminds him.

 "Oh, right. What about it?" Mark asks, moving to stand in front of Jack. He takes his hands, swinging them lightly back and forth without thinking about it.

 Jack stops the movement of his feet and finally looks up at his fiancée. "Well, I thought about it some more, and... I realized that I should just treat _this_ \--" he pauses and drops one of Mark's hands to gesture at his skirt "--the same way. If people are gonna talk, they're gonna talk. And I just have to deal with it and move on instead of letting it freeze me in place. I have to live my life the way I want and not let anybody tell me otherwise."

 Mark smiles, leaning down to kiss him before responding. "That's really brave of you, babe, and I don't wanna stop you, but... Are you absolutely positive about this? People can be really horrible sometimes."

 "I'm well aware of that," Jack answers, hopping off of the couch. He pulls Mark over to the door, staring at it while he takes another deep breath. "And I'm ready to face it."

 "Okay, if you're sure. But I want you to tell me if you change your mind, and we'll rush home immediately, okay?"

 "Thanks for worrying about me, babe, but as long as you're by my side, I'll be fine." Mark gives him a serious look, and Jack rolls his eyes and laughs. "Okay, I _promise_ I'll let you know if I change my mind. Now let's go!"

 Mark squeezes his hand with a smile and opens the door. Jack returns the smile, tilts his chin up, and leads the way to the world beyond, ready to face whatever it might throw at him.


End file.
